Rare
by Dancho
Summary: Takes place in the time between the series end and the beginning of Endless Waltz. An idea about Mariemeia and Wufei’s first meeting. Allusions to later events and previous events, but only spoilers for the series.


Title: Rare

Chapter: 1/1 (ONE-SHOT)

Author: Dancho

Overall Rating: G (my first!)

Disclaimer: Own nothing… I live in a box and wear a barrel.

Summery: Takes place between the series and Endless Waltz. An idea about Mariemeia and Wufei's first meeting. Allusions to later events and previous events. See if you catch them.

* * *

Wufei was led into a small private library by an older man. Once he had entered, the man bowed to the other occupant of the room and left, closing the door behind him, leaving Wufei alone with his contact. There was a soft, simple waltz playing on an old-fashioned record player, but it matched the old-fashioned air of the library, filled with dusty novels and texts.

"Mr. Chang, how nice to finally meet you," The other occupant, a small girl, smiled up at Wufei, motioning for him to have a seat. She was standing in front of a tall bookshelf, standing on a stool to reach an old book.

"I was intrigued by your message," Wufei nodded, refusing her offer of a seat. The girl turned to face him, holding the book in her hands. She didn't get off the stool, but it made her taller, and Wufei noted her subtle maneuver to reduce his psychological advantage of height.

"I'm glad. I've been watching you for a while now. You're fascinating."

"Am I?"

"Of course! In this era of peace and harmony, you alone are a civilian and yet continue to practice offensive weaponry and martial arts. Even the other Gundam pilots have slipped into peaceful roles. Why is that?"

"I can't say peace agrees with me," Wufei replied. He didn't see a reason to lie. He didn't try to keep his works out a secret and the girl obviously knew about them.

"Please, explain," the girl smiled, shifting her weight patiently.

"I… I just don't feel alive. I only feel that way when I come so close to death, I can feel my clan calling for me. That's when I feel alive and vibrant. The rest of the time, the world seems gray and colorless. Drab, like a meal without taste or smell."

"But your fellow pilots don't feel that way."

"We're different; mentally, that is. Yuy is a soldier, paid to act and kill and Winner is a pacifist, a caring person. He hates to hurt others, which makes battle unpleasant for him. Barton fights because he feels obligated. He fights like he lives, without passion. Maxwell is a civilian, pure and simple. He enjoys people and simple fun. And when he fights, his power comes from death instead of life."

"And you're different?"

"Yes. I'm a warrior. I fight for honor and justice; I adhere to my code of ethics. But I also fight because it's my life, my calling. I come alive in battle, the rush and the dance with death. I fight with passion and because I need to feel alive. When I meet death in battle, I can see the life in me, by comparing what I have to what my dead opponent lacks."

"Interesting. And now you feel restless, because peace has taken away your passion, your ability to feel alive?"

"Yes."

There was a slight pause, as the girl looked down at her book, deep in thought.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked, holding up her book for Wufei to see. It was plain and old, wore and faded with age and use. Even the gold writing on the cover had worn off with frequent reading. Wufei shrugged. "It's a very rare book, almost impossible to find these days. I suppose you could say it's one of the last. Perhaps only one or two others of its kind exist. Do you know what it is?"

"No."

"Well, it's actually two books. The first focuses on military history, and the second looks at tactics. Do you know why this book is so rare?"

"The recent burning of all military and war related texts," Wufei shrugged, wondering what was going on.

"Don't you think that's a silly idea?" The girl asked. "No matter how much you try to suppress ideas, someone will still come along who will develop their own tactics. You can't destroy warfare, only change it. You see… history is like…"

The girl paused to think for a second, and the background music swelled for a few bars before fading.

"Like a waltz," the girl finished with a smile. She hopped off the stool and walked over to the desk, taking a seat in the chair behind it. "Yes, I like that. History is a waltz. In a waltz, the measure is a group of three beats, and in history there are the three beats of war, peace and revolution. Lucky for you."

"Lucky?"

"Yes. During the middle beat, it's natural for people like you, who thrive on the deaths of others to feel alive, to feel lifeless and obsolete. But it's not hopeless. All you have to do is wait for the next beat, revolution, to come along and then there will be battles again."

"But peace has just started."

"It's a short one, I promise you that. You see, Mr. Chang, I'm building an army. An army to revolt against this ridiculous peace of that Relena Darlian, that Relena Peacecraft. I'd like you to join. You're a fine fighter and your Gundam suit would be a wonderful trump card."

"Someone will try to stop you."

"Indeed. Your fellow pilots most likely. But that's where you benefit. I won't insult your abilities by asking that you fight normal soldiers. It wouldn't be… honorable… for you. But I'm sure you can handle another Gundam pilot who might try to fight for peace. You can find everything you look for in that battle. Life in contrast with your opponent's death. Honor for yourself and your skill. Justice for all those soldiers who's sacrifice is currently neglected and forgotten by the citizens you fought to protect. Don't you wonder how they can reject and hate the very battles and soldiers that made this peace possible? Of course, you might even find what you seek most."

"And what's that?"

"Death."

"Death?"

"Of course. A fine soldier would never be content to die an old man in a hospital. You'll want to go in a flash of glory! A brilliant battle against a worthy opponent! Like my father. At any rate, whether or not my revolution succeeds is irrelevant. This may be your last chance for the warrior's death you do or will seek."

"This position… in your army. How long do I have to consider?"

"I plan to attack around the one year anniversary of peace. You have until then."

"I'll let you know. I assume you can find me," Wufei sighed and bowed slightly to the girl. He turned to go and got to the door before a thought hit him. He turned slightly, to see the girl still in her seat, watching him thoughtfully. "What's your name?"

"Mariemeia Barton. But you're probably more familiar with my father's name, Khushrenada."

"I killed you father," Wufei finally managed, still not turning to fully face her. "You know that, yes?"

"I know. It's what he wanted. To die in honorable combat, at the hands of a warrior. A warrior like him."

"I am nothing like him," Wufei frowned, and left the room quickly.

"No. Of course not, Wufei," Mariemeia smiled slightly. "But the desire for battle is still strong in both of you."

* * *

Wufei walked up the towering stairs, trying not to run, but wanting to escape the civilians below him. They disgusted him. They were ready to celebrate the year of absolute peace, but they so readily forgot and despised the war that brought it. He hadn't expected everyone to love him for the work he had done as a pilot, but he had expected some respect and thankfulness. Not the loathing he received currently. 

Idly running his fingers along the library books, Wufei wandered through the top floor of the library, poking through the textbooks, trying to find something to read. He thought he saw a glint of gold and pushed aside two books to reveal a small book, hidden in the shadows. Reaching all the way into the back, he pulled the grimy, old book out and brushed the heavy layer of dust away. It was an old book (old enough to have gold-edged pages) about various historical wars and the various important battles in them. The book reminded him of a little girl with bright red hair and a memorable father.

Looking up, Wufei saw the woman standing in front of him, a librarian who worked at the library.

"Mr. Chang."

"So, it _was_ you," Wufei sighed, sizing up the woman. "I thought I was wrong, but… you work for Mariemeia, right?"

"Yes. She is waiting for your answer."

"I accept," Wufei nodded vaguely, looking down at the book in his hands. "I'll go see her now. I think she'll enjoy this book."

As he followed the woman out of the library, Wufei smiled to himself. Obviously his new employer didn't know much about Treize, even though she did claim to be his daughter. For a while, he had considered telling her what her father had really wanted, but in the end he supposed he wouldn't.

He wanted the up coming battle, and he needed her to wage it for him. Besides, he doubted she would believe _him_ if he told her and, all in all, it just wasn't he place to saw anything.

He supposed that the girl, Mariemeia, would learn the truth… eventually.


End file.
